


Singing Snow

by RevelationTWDnSlender (orphan_account)



Series: Horror [2]
Category: Creepypasta - Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Creepypasta, Horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-13
Updated: 2016-01-13
Packaged: 2018-05-13 19:06:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5713714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/RevelationTWDnSlender
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An ice cream truck's music is playing. It takes you a moment to realize that it's three in the morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Singing Snow

_A quiet noise awakes you from sleep._

 You are not a heavy sleeper. You are trained to here when your seven year old son is out of his bed at night. You've been this way since Alex was baby, as you would need to hear when he was crying. Ever since your husband died, it's just been you, and Alex. Your heart races, telling you something is wrong.

 The noise - what is that? It only takes you a few moments to realize that is the door squeaking open. "It's so noisy" You remember saying. "I need to fix it."

 Perhaps in this case, you are glad you never did.

  "Jesus" you mumble, getting out of bed. You quickly throw on your shirt and push your door open, running down the stairs. You see Alex closing the door behind him across from a few rooms, his Spongebob pajamas still on and hanging loosely on him. 

 Hold on a moment...what is that sound?

 It's not the door closing. It's...a song?

 "Ice Cream truck?" You say, your voice not even close to a whisper. It takes your dizzy, sleep ridden head a moment to realize its almost three in the morning. Ice cream trucks don't...

_Don't..._

 "Alex!" You scream, jumping over chairs and toys in your path to the front door. You're scared, you've seen these type of things happen on reality shows. Your son is the only thing you have left, and as a mother, _you must protect him. At. All. Costs._

 The music is getting quieter now, so much quieter, like its simply floating away. You open the front door, looking left and right, looking for where your son went, and where that music was coming from. In the distance, down the block, you see the bright ice cream truck turning the corner, and out of sight.

 "Alex!" You scream, at the top of your lungs, hoping to get your neighbors attention. "Alex!"

 No answer.

 You notice something, though; in the street. Its a bright yellow blanket, your sons bright yellow blanket. You had given it to him when he was a baby. But you snap back to reality; the music is fading, you can still barely hear it. You look at your car; and back into your pockets. You don't have your keys. You cannot waste time looking for them. You cut through your neighbor's yard, running to the other side of the block.

 "Alex!" You continue to yell, top of your lungs. But nobody comes out from their homes. It is oddly quiet, save for the ice cream truck music that is fading from your ears.

 It takes years, in your mind, memories flashing by in bullet time, to catch the slow moving truck. Its lights illuminate the darkened roads, and its in reach! You use adrenaline and motherly instinct to run faster than you ever have in your life to catch up to this bastard; your legs are burning, your eyes are dry, but you do it anyway.

 You run to the driver's side and open the door, yelling "STOP" at the top of your lungs. But there is nobody there, just a brick on the gas. You quickly take the brick off of the gas, not daring to question it at the moment. You don't care how the truck was driving - remote control? It doesn't matter. You run to the back of the truck, and use all your might to pop open the back.

 Nothing.

 There is nothing.

 No ice cream, no child, no kidnapper.

 Except, a yellow blanket.

 

 You gasp. 

 You're awake!

 What a nightmare.

 You sigh, feeling tension come off of your shoulders. You sit up in bed, take a drink from a water bottle near you, and proceed to go downstairs. You go to the bathroom, brush your hair, and check your phone - its very early in the morning. You turn on the lights to make yourself comfortable. In fact, to ease your worry, you check on your son; because there's no way you're going back to sleep.

 "Just mommy" You say, in a soothing voice as you gently walk over to the bed. You reach your hand under the blankets to pet Alex's head, but instead, you feel something else.

 Youre eyes widen and you rip the covers off- only to find pillows in the shape of a body. 

 

 And you realize that there had been a sound present for longer than you had perceived it-

 

_a sound of a jingle, an ice cream song, except right in front of your house._

 

_And you arent dreaming this time._


End file.
